


Rage of Shadows

by ironbite



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-01-07 00:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironbite/pseuds/ironbite
Summary: Pern is getting ready to start the Ninth Pass of Red Star when a new player enters the game.  But who is this person and why are they on Pern?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully the first of a series  
> Also huge thank to my editor Laci_Taleweaver who took time out of her life to basically show me what 15 YEARS OF NOT WRITING WILL DO TO A PERSON!

When Man first came to Pern, they took little notice of the strange planet that shone red in the night skies. For two generations, they lived in peace until the planet's orbit brought it close enough to Pern to rain down an indigenous life form known as Thread. The first Threadfall was devastating to the young colony but in time, human ingenuity won out and though the settlers had to move north to shield, they had developed a powerful protector. Dragons would fly when Thread was in the sky and men called Dragonriders would guide these awesome beasts in battle. For 2000 turns the world of Pern would watch the ebb and flow of Threadfall in the many Passes of Red Star. But now, on the eve of the 9th Pass of Red Star, Pern's Dragonriders have been brought to it's lowest ebb. Only one Weyr existed when there should have been six. And in the range of mountains near Benden Hold, something strange was happening.

 

The night was clear, so clear you could reach out and pluck the stars from the night sky. The twin moons of Pern weren't even around to spoil the night sky, as Belior had set an hour ago and Timor had been rising late lately. And Joker was drunk. Just like always. The holdless man, thrown out of his rightful hold by his own father 3 Turns ago, lurched out of the wine shop, steady on his feet despite the three skins of good Benden white he had drunk not 30 minutes ago. The wine keeper had told him, like he always did, to get himself some more marks if he wanted to keep drinking that way. And by the First Egg, Joker would do just that. Just like he always did. Smiling to himself as he made his way to his cot, the drunkard whistled an old sailing tune his father had once tried to teach him. A chance glance at Benden Peak though stopped Joker in his tracks.

 

_'Where the bloody hells are the stars?',_ was the thought that came to the man's mind. The only one. For beyond Benden's peak, where the stars should be, was nothing but inky blackness. They were gone. And as Joker stared, Timor started to rise up towards its customary midnight position. Only as it reached the place where the stars were gone, it too vanished.

 

_'Must be the drink',_ Joker mused to himself as he wobbled on down the road, a little bit more sober than he was before.

 

As the drunkard wandered down the road, the strange blackness started to swirl. The light of the moon started to shine on the dark patch of nothing which began to rotate faster and faster. Suddenly, the patch of darkness erupted into a circle of darkness, interspersed with white lighting crackles that defined the now open wormhole. From the center of it, a single man shaped object was ejected from the tunnel, the object appearing to be on fire as it slammed into the side of the mountain. Immediately the portal closed, leaving no trace it had ever been. Within the fiery crater the moon shone down imperviously, rocks and debris still smoking from the impact. A hand grabbed the side of the hole followed by an arm, a shoulder, then a person, dressed in tattered black clothing. He levered himself out of his hole, crawling out of the hole and turning over onto his back with a groan. Minutes passed as the figure in black simply rested from his labors, the only sign he was alive was his chest rising and falling. The man opened his eyes, blue eyes that shined in the moonlight for a second before fading. Hauling himself up he looked around, blinking as understanding began to fill his eyes. Then rage began building, a rage that had nothing to do where he had landed. His head shot up and he let loose a howl of longing and grief that split the night with it's pain. Then just as swiftly as it began, it was cut off, leaving only silence in it's wake for miles around.

 

“This way Masterfarmer,” Manora's voice echoed up from the stone stair case leading to the council room where F'lar and Lessa, Weyrleaders of Benden Wyer spent most of their time now going over the moldy Record skins searching for a way to predict when Thread would fall upon their world to sear it into nothing. Lessa looked up at the sound of the Headwoman's voice, brushing a lock hair that had escaped from it's usual braid away from her face. A glance at her weyrmate showed he was too involved in his readings to even pay attention to the intruders. With a sigh, Lessa pushed away the skin she was attempting to decipher and awaited their visitors.

 

Manora was the first to appear, the same calm, cool expression on her face which seemed the same as it was when Lessa arrived on Search 3 Turns ago. She stopped in the door way and bowed her head slightly, Lessa nodding in answer and stepped through with the Masterfarmer, his rough clothing indicating that he had just come from his farmhold. Lessa blinked as she recognized the face of the man, one Owen by name. He worked the nearest farmhold to Benden Wyre and wouldn't have come from field if it weren't urgent. As the man came into the chamber, he quickly snatched his hat off his head and bowed his head, the very nervousness of his movements betraying his reason for being here.

 

“Excuse me Weyrwoman, Weyrleader,” Manora began with no preamble, “a matter of some urgency has come up and it is something you two should both hear.” She bowed again and urged the farmer to come forward. F'lar, finally noticing the pair, put aside his Record skin and looked properly attentive.

 

“Well it's like this,” the Masterfarmer began, “now normally I'd be going to Lord Raid with this but seeing as how this is Weyr business, I came straight here. See, I'm raising wherries for the dragons down yonder and as of late, something has been killing and eating the birds. Now I'm no fool, I know there's all sorts of beasts that could do the deed but so far, we can't find anything. We've tried for the past sevenday to catch the critter but he's smart, to smart. Can we have some Weyr help? I'd not be coming here if I didn't think Lord Raid could help. Sides,” the man's face split in a wide grin, “ain't too often a man can say he's been to the Weyr.”

 

Lessa smiled back as F'lar out right laughed. “Masterfarmer Owen,” Lessa said, “I'd like to think that this is something you could probably handle on your own. But, if I recall, your farmhold is the one nearest to Benden Weyr so I think it'd behoove us to look into this. Give the weyrlings something to do now that their dragons aren't eating us out of Weyr and Hold.” Lessa looked over at F'lar who had leaned back in his chair and crossed his long legs. “In fact I think we could possibly do with a flyover, don't you think Weyrleader?”

 

F'lar scowled at Lessa then turned his attention to the Masterfarmer. “Certainly we could help out. But if this creature is attacking at night, not sure what use we could be. Dragons aren't exactly known for their night sight. That's why we have watch-whers.”

 

From deep within the Weyr bowl, a chorus of roars punctuated that statement.

 

The Masterfarmer sighed. “It's not just during the night this thing attacks. Its any time!” The man raised his hands up then brought them down in fists, clearly upset and frustrated at his failure to protect tithe beasts. “Honestly Weyrleaders, I'm about at my wits ends.”

 

F'lar made soothing motions at the man. “Don't fret yourself Masterfarmer, we'll find your beast.” The Weyrleader flashed a quick grin. “If it's attacking during the day, I doubt it'll be able to hide from a dragon. We'll probably catch it, kill it, then have it for dinner before too long.”

 

The three then exchanged more pleasantries before Manora took the man out. As they left, F'lar looked over at Lessa. “Fancy a quick hop over to the farmhold? I think we've been cooped up here for long enough.”

 

Lessa grimaced as she got to her feet, stiff from the extended hours they had spent this day. Looking over at the Record skins on the table she stretched, feeling each and every vertebra pop as she did so.

 

“I think that'd be an excellent idea. And I suppose we can bring some lunch. Breakfast was a long time ago,” she eyed F'lar as he got to his feet. “Just us two or should we bring anyone else?”  
  


“I think F'nor's not doing anything right now,” F'lar replied as he headed to the ledge where his great bronze dragon, Mnementh awaited him. “The three of us can have a picnic,” was his parting sally.

 

Lessa merely rolled her eyes and went to collect her flying gear from their chambers.

 

Three great dragons, one bronze, one brown, and one gold popped out from _between_ just over the farmhold. A quick landing and consultation provided the info that the wherries were being attacked in the most northern field. The 3 dragons were quick to get back in the air, effortlessly gliding towards the area.

 

' _A most splendid day I think,'_ Lessa thought to her dragon Ramoth. A grunt from the great queen was her only answer. Lessa laughed and patted the great neck over which she rode. ' _I take it you're still grumpy?'_

 

_'I am not grumpy,'_ came Ramoth's reply. ' _I just don't like the cold.'_

 

_'Take heart love of my life,'_ Lessa grinned as she spied the field that was their destination. 'W _e're about there then you can lounge in the sun until we're ready to leave.'_

 

As the three dragons glided towards a hill marking the boundary, the entire flock of wherries suddenly burst over it, some taking to the air for a brief second before coming back down to the ground to engage in the stampede. So frightened they were they didn't even notice the dragon shadows passing overhead as they headed south towards presumed safety. The three riders exchanged looks as they came over the hill and all three recoiled in horror.

 

Upon the field lay the corpses of 5 wherries, 3 of which looked to be partially consumed. It looked to their eyes like a dragon had been there. But feasting on the corpse of one of the wherries wasn't a dragon. The three riders circled over what appeared to be a man, a man who's hair was shaggy and unkempt and he was saved from nakedness by some tattered black clothing. F'nor and F'lar exchanged glances then F'lar motioned for them to land some distance from this apparent madman who continued his grisly feast.

 

As they landed, F'lar and F'nor dismounted, F'lar glaring at Lessa to stay put on Ramoth. The two brothers exchanged looks with one another.

 

“Well,” F'nor began, nervously looking over at the mad man. “Do you want to go ask him if he'd like to join in our picnic or do we wait for him to invite us to the feast?”

 

F'lar looked at the blood stained man and rubbed his chin. “I think it'd be better if we subdued him and brought him to Healer Hall. I don't think he's sane.”

 

F'nor looked over and nodded. “Yes I doubt he is. Odd though. He looks vaguely familiar to me.”

 

F'lar also looked over and cocked his head to the side. Something was nagging at his memory but it refused to come to the surface. “Well whoever he is, we'll ask him after we've got him away from the wherries. Got a club or something?”

 

F'nor produced a short club from his belt. “Thought we might run into trouble so I came prepared.” He looked up at his big brown dragon and nodded. “Canth says he'll back me up.”

 

“Luck,” F'lar said and the two brothers started towards the man in black, F'lar lagging behind F'nor as the younger half-brother approached the feasting madman.

 

“Hey!” F'nor shouted at the man in black once he got in position, trying to get his attention. “Hey you there!” There was no response. F'nor edged closer, holding his short club low to the ground. “Hey I want to talk to you.” The man kept eating, tearing out large chunks of meat with hands that looked to be more like claws then anything else. “I'm warning you, I'm armed.” The man continued to eat as F'nor approached him from behind. “Don't say I didn't warn you,” was F'nor's last words as he brought the club down hard on the man's head.

 

Or he would have had the man in black's hand not appeared grabbing hold of the club, preventing it's downward velocity from impacting. Quicker then anything, F'nor found himself flying through the air, landing on his head with an audible thunk, being knocked out. F'lar scrambled back as Canth roared a challenge. The man spun around, crouching on all fours and glaring at the brown dragon charging at him. If Lessa hadn't been watching what happened, she would've surely chalked up what happened next to some sort of wine-sickness. As Canth got to the man, he sprung, twisting upwards and uppercutting Canth in the jaw, snapping the great brown's head back and lifting him off the ground. And by some trick of the light, the man's entire body was, for a moment encircled by some sort of fire that traced the path of his punch. As he landed and Canth's unconscious body landed behind him, he turned and looked at his fallen foe. A growl escaped his lips and he turned his attention towards Less and F'lar. F'lar had scrambled back to Mnementh and had mounted his bronze. Turning to Lessa, he shouted at her to get back to the Weyr. The man's eyes narrowed and he threw his head back in a scream, momentarily stopping Mnementh from lifting off himself and pausing Ramoth's ascent. Quicker then either of them could react, the man started running towards Mnementh, scabbering on all fours at times but moving quickly. As Mnementh got a dragonlength from the ground, the man in black jumped, reaching the level of Mnementh's head with a single bound. He landed on Mnementh's nose and used it as a springboard, sending the great bronze's head towards the ground as he ascended upwards. He reached the level where Lessa stared at this madman who looked back her, eyes wide with madness. Then, just to further confuse the issue, he floated over and landed lightly between Ramoth's neck ridges, staring into Lessa's eyes with something akin to an accusation in them.

 

There they stayed for what seemed like forever. Then, to Lessa's astonishment, the man reached out and gently cupped the back of her head. Leaning forward, he touch his bloody forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he did. They stayed like that for a second before his eyes snapped open, the madness and rage that had been in them streaking out, to be replaced by tears and a great sadness. The man lifted his head up and howled, a howl of pain and longing and suffering that drove all thought from Lessa's mind, bringing tears to her eyes as the memory of the loss of her family, long past these Turns, was brought fresh to her mind. Ramoth and Mnementh's necks reached to the sky above as they let loose a soul rendering keen of their own. As Ramoth keened, the man in black fell from his preach, falling from between the neck ridges towards the ground below. Lessa leaned forward, trying to catch the man before he'd be out of reach when, as he entered the shadow cast by Ramoth's wing, he vanished, leaving only confusion, the bloody wrecks, and questions as he did.

 

F'lar and the Benden Wingleaders appeared in the skies from _between_ arranged smartly over northern Ruatha. Above them, arranged smartly and professionally, were the wings of Fort Weyr. F'lar couldn't stop the grin from spreading on his face as he observed the mass dragon wings. Though not participating in this fight against their ancient enemy as they did at Telgar, F'lar and the other wingleaders had deemed it prudent to at least observe. After all one couldn't have too much experience when it came to fighting Thread.

 

' _I'd rather be fighting Thread'_ grumbled the great bronze Mnementh from beneath him.

 

F'lar simply laughed and reached out to pet the great neck. ' _Next time my heart. Next time we'll be in the thick of things just like at Nerat and Telgar.'_

 

F'lar's wings positioned themselves in observation altitude. Far enough away so that they wouldn't be scoured by Thread but close enough to observe the patterns being woven. At Telgar, only 3 of the Benden dragon riders had been hurt by Thread and only one was out of action for longer then a few days. Which wasn't bad for one under strength Weyr but that would improve as the Turns passed. F'lar looked over his shoulder to see F'nor's Canth in proper position but his rider wasn't observing the ascending wings of dragons heading east. His head was turned firmly to the west, at some distant star that seemed to refuse to vanish from the sky.

 

' _Mnementh ask Canth what's got F'nor so fascinated,'_ F'lar asked his dragon.

 

Mnementh's head swiveled towards his brown wingmate and he rumbled back, ' _F'nor sees a star that doesn't seem to want to go away. It also looks like it's getting closer.'_

 

' _Probably just a shooting star that's late. It'll go away in a sec-_ ' F'lar's thought was cut off by a cry from his half-brother.

 

“LOOK OUT!” came F'nor's cry as F'lar turned to look. Mnementh was quicker in reaction as he wing slipped to the right as the supposed shooting star suddenly streaked in out of nowhere right in the space F'lar and Mnementh were. The streak was green in color and blazed faster then any dragon could ever go. F'lar stared at it as it ascended towards the incoming Thread, beating out the fastest dragons. As it got to what seemed to be the thickest portion of Thread it stopped. There it floated for a second, a spark in the middle of the gray dark thread

 

“AURA CRASH!” came a shout like thunder that caused some dragons to instantly drop several lengths in the air before catching themselves. Instantly the spark grew and spread wings made of what appeared to fire in the middle of thread. Instantly the sky lit itself on fire, as if the entire firebird was dragon fire and seared the Thread from the sky. Then it started to move, dancing in the sky, leaving a trail of fire and ash where ever it went. The dragons and riders hung motionless in the sky as by itself, the firebird charred Thread. Mnementh suddenly went _between_ and appeared next to T'ron's Fidranth, the Fort Weyrleader's mouth hanging open. He looked over at F'lar in disbelief and cupped his hands over his mouth.

 

“WHERE WAS THIS HIDING?” T'ron shouted.

 

“I DON'T KNOW!” F'lar called back, the pyrotechnic show continuing.

 

As the dragon riders watched, the firebird suddenly reversed direction, heading, it seemed, directly towards where F'lar and T'ron hung in the sky. It stopped mere lengths from the two men and dragons, seemingly contemplating them. Then the firebird extinguished itself, revealing an armor clad form in it's center. The armor clad form was black in color, seemingly like a bit of midnight made almost flesh. Twin blades the length of an arm sprouted from each wrist, not impeding the motion of the arms at all. Three gems were on the chest in an upside down triangle, two green and one blue, each glowing brightly in the air. From the head, a trio of what looked like fins crowned it, over a visor that looked to be made of green glass. As they watched, twin jets of steam escaped from vents in the helm's cheeks, cloaking it from view for a second before the steam evaporated. The figure's visored visage bore down into the two Weyrleaders as if searching for something. The figure then turned around in mid air, gazing up at what was left of Thread. Moving his head around his neck, F'lar and T'ron heard audible popping, like the figure was preparing for some great physical labor. It lifted up his arms, the twin blades on both wrists switching forward to face what the hands were pointed at. Two more blades popped from what F'lar took for decorative spikes at the elbows, lengthening to the length of a man's forearm. The shoulder pauldrons opened up as well, revealing that they too were another double set of blades. What was taken to be fins atop the figure's head were in fact more blades, two the length of the back of the skull but the third the entire length of the spine, snapping forward and facing the incoming Thread. Then the points began to glow, swiftly gathering dark colored energy and increasing in size. The armor never gave any indication of stress or fatigue as it gathered more and more power, power that raised the hair on the back of F'lar's neck.

 

“SHADOW OMNI BEAM!” came the same shout as from before, only this time it was apparent that the figure in the armor was the source. With a blast of sound, the seven energy beams exploded from the tips of the blades of the armor, shattering again and again as they raced to meet Thread. Each second the energy beams continued their journey they split exponentially, racing higher and higher and multiplying and multiplying. Each beam then sought out a Thread filament, capturing each spore and stopping it in it's tracks. The beams continued in this manner, only stopping when it was apparent that each Thread had been captured. The figure then tensed up and sent a surge of even more energy from the tips of the blades, exploding each Thread that made the previous pyrotechnic show look mundane in compassion. As ash rained down on the valley below, the armor's blades snapped back to their previous configuration. The figure turned back around and stared down at F'lar. Suddenly from behind the visor, two blue orbs flashed into existence and another jet of steam issued forth. This steam was different as it billowed around the figure, cloaking it in white. Suddenly, the steam was blown away as the figure surrounded itself in a ball of energy. It then flew up, disappearing into the sky, leaving nothing but blue morning behind.

 

F'lar and Lessa popped from _between_ above Fort Weyr, the mid afternoon sun gilding the great Star Stones of the ancient Weyr. Ramoth and Mementh glided wing tip to wing tip down towards the great queens ledge. Perching only long enough to discharge their riders, the two dragons arced away towards the sunning ledges, as the two riders made their way to council chamber.

 

“And it just, vanished?” Lessa asked F'lar again as they unbuckled riding helmats and shucked gloves. “Like it didn't even want to explain itself?”

 

“Yes Lessa,” F'lar said for what had to have been the millionth time, “just flew up into the sky faster then even the fastest green could ever hope to fly and vanished. I'm having a hard time even processing what happened. I really hope T'ron doesn't expect much from us. I didn't even know that thing existed.”

 

Lessa frowned. “Whatever it is, I just hope it doesn't make another appearance. Thinking that something with that much power exists on our world is mind boggling.”

 

F'lar nodded as they entered the council chamber, a nod to T'ron who held curtain open for them before letting it drop on F'lar's heels. He nodded the Benden Weyrleaders to a pair of chairs next to another empty one and crossed the chamber to his own seat, Marada coming around behind them and placing a goblet each of wine and a pitcher of klah between them. A quick squeeze of Lessa's shoulders and the Fort Weyrwoman went to take her place beside her weyrmate. F'lar glanced around and sighed, this was probably going to be a long meeting.

 

“So,” T'ron began after a short moment, “what happened over Ruatha happened there's no doubt about it. Whatever that thing was it certainly charred Thread well enough. What I want to know is what was it?”

 

“I'd love to know that too T'ron,” F'lar began, rubbing the back of his head with one hand as Lessa clutched his other. “We've never even heard a rumor that it existed nor do we have any songs about it. But yes, it charred Thread today, that I will give you.”

 

“But certainly,” D'ram said, “certainly you'd know of something that could help spell out this mystery. If something of this much power existed in your time, we wouldn't have had to come forward.”

 

A murmur of consent answered that that from T'kul and R'mart.

 

“Yes but-” F'lar attempted to answer when suddenly the entire chamber went dark. Not dark as if the glowbaskets had suddenly all failed, but dark as if night itself had descended and replaced day. There was a moment of frightened shouting and conflicting commands when light was returned to the chamber and where there were twelve people, there where now thirteen.

 

The newcomer was dressed in tight black clothing with an odd black and white symbol on the left breast. Inside that symbol was the sign of infinity. His hair was brown and his skin, where not crossed with old scars including a rather impressive one that began over his left eye and ended below it, was a pale white beneath a tan. A trimmed beard and mustache completed his look, marking him for at least 25 turns old. His eyes were what F'lar would remember most besides the fact that he lounged very casually in his chair, black boots up on the table as if he was master here. His eyes were a startlingly vivid and clear shade of blue. And they looked old. As if the stranger had seen more life then his appearance suggested.

 

T'kul rose from his chair, his hand going to his belt to draw his knife and the stranger laughed.

 

“Yeah that would be a bright idea if you were armed,” he said in a voice rich with amusement but still sounding young. He causally brought up a hand, revealing that he held T'kul's belt knife in it. “You might be needing this if you're planning on killing me.”

 

With a negligent toss, the knife was to T'kul, who stared at it as if he'd never seen it before. With another laugh, the man in black revealed his other hand, this one holding five more knives in it. “In fact y'all might be needing these back just in case.” Another causal toss followed, skittering the rest of the blades to rest, hilts pointing at their owners.

 

T'ron stared first at the knife then at the stranger causally lounging at his council chamber. “Who,” T'ron began after swallowing visibly, “what are you?”

 

The stranger chuckled and reached over, grabbing F'lar's wine cup and taking a drink. He wiped his lips and set the cup down before looking at the Fort Weyr leaders.

 

“Ahh now that,” he began, his voice losing all traces of the accent he had put on before, “that is a story worthy of one of your Songs. Who I am and what I am are so intertwined at this point that I can't even separate them. But I'll try my very best.”

 

He flexed, merely flexed his knees and assumed a cross legged position a visible foot off the chair. “What I am wouldn't have any meaning to you people but I'll try and explain. I am a 5000 yea-,” he paused and shook his head, “sorry 5000 Turn old time traveler. I am a man without a home. I am a man who's history includes tragedy and triumph worthy of one of your Songs. That is what I am.” He paused, rotating slowly in the air as he eyed each of them in turn. When he got to T'kul he paused more then the rest, looking at T'kul for a second then glancing again at T'ron. “Give it seven years then. As for who I am that's a question that I've asked myself for the past 2000 Turns. The simple answer is a name. My name. My name is Nick Saber and I am known throughout the cosmos as the Shadow of Time. I just thought I'd say hello in the best way possible.”

 

T'ron's eyes seemed to start out of his head. “What in shards are you talking about?”

 

“That pyrotechnic display over Ruatha of course,” replied Nick. “Surely you don't think I run around at 100% of my total power for fun? Usually I just run around like this or at 25% but I figured I'd get your attention better in my Shadow Star Armor then in this ninja gi.”

 

“Ninja....what?” D'ram asked.

 

Nick rolled his eyes which made him flip in place. “Oh lord you people have no idea. Forgot what I was dealing with for a second. I'm a warrior D'ram. A ninja is a type of warrior and where I'm from they ran around in stuff like this. Or in orange. Not to sure why. The bottom line is ladies and gentlemen, I'm not here as a threat. I'm here to help you out in times when you can't deal with everything. Cause the way I see it...or rather,” and he chuckled again, “Foresee it, you and your people are in for some massive upheavals and changes and I always find those the most interesting.”

 

T'kul muttered something and gave the stranger floating above the chair a dark look. Fanna looked at the man fearfully. “How are you doing that?” she asked, almost seeming to shrink from even addressing this stranger.

 

“What floating?” Nick asked back, “oh it's nothing to special. I usually just like to walk around or lounge upside down but figured this would be a better demonstration of my powers. I can also fly, something that was demonstrated a couple months back.”

 

“A couple months back?” T'ron asked, his glare going to F'lar and Lessa.

 

“I can assure you T'ron,” F'lar began again, his hands raised to ward off the Fort Weyrleader's glare, “we have never seen this man before in our lives.”

 

“Yeah you have,” Nick said, countering F'lar as he stretched out in mid air, “I just wasn't as well groomed at the time. And I had a chunk of wherry between my teeth. That was a fun time in my life.”

 

“YOU!” Lessa shouted explosively, rising to her feat and casting one hand out to point at the floating man. “You were the one in the field that day! The one who threw F'nor for dragon lengths.”

 

“Also Shoruykened Canth if memory serves,” Nick shook his head and laughed. “Glad to see the big brown is OK. Didn't think I hurt him but I was quite mad you see.”

 

“But why?” Lessa asked, “why attack us?”

 

Nick rubbed the back of his head, his eyes going up as he thought.

 

“Well, “ he began, “I was quite mad at the time. Not the mad you see right now though, proper mad. Insane really. With rage at being alive, grief at what I've lost and just found comfort in insanity. Really I was kinda operating at instinct if I had to be honest. Just reacting at everything. But you pulled me out Weyrwoman and for that I am eternally grateful.” Nick bowed his head to Lessa.

 

“But I didn't do anything,” Lessa protested.

 

“You learned your Ballads letter perfect is what you did,” Nick replied, his eyes filled with honesty for a brief second, “you learned your Ballads letter perfect and within you is a core of strength that shall never fail you. I needed that at the time and for that, I am so grateful.”

 

Nick turned his head and rose to his feet, stretching his arms and shaking his shoulders. “Well I can see you need some time to process this so I'm going to leave. But before I do, I'm going to give you all a gift. After all, what sort of guest would I be if I didn't leave a gift?”

 

He reached into his shirt and drew out a shiny disk of metal about the size of a mark. Holding it up, there was some strange symbol on one side of the disk and on the other side was the sign of infinity.

 

“This,” he explained, “ is a Shadow Coin. There'll be one in each of your weyrs don't ask me how I put them there you don't want to know. You'll see me out and about Pern but if you need me, really need me, take the coin and flip it. I'll catch it before it hits the ground no matter where. Consider this a sign of my trust in you as this is a very powerful artifact I'm trusting you with.” He set it down on the table in the center and rose towards the ceiling. “Until we meet again my friends, safe skies.” As he entered an area of deeper shadow, he faded away like a ghost, leaving the council chamber, for the moment, in silence.

 

At the highest peak of Benden mountains, the ice and snow swirled as a spring storm moves into the region to deliver some much needed rain. Standing on a small cliff on the south face of the mountain, Nick Saber stood, ignoring the cold and wet as he looked out over Pern.

 

' _Such a fragile world to have been bombarded by so much cosmic stuff,'_ he thought, his eyes scanning the horizon.

 

' _Ahh,'_ a new voice, one that echoed with the weight of centuries behind it came to his mind, _'that is their burden is it not?'_

 

“Hello Guardian,” Nick said out loud, knowing the entity who's shadow he was could hear him, “been a long time.”

 

A swirl of ice and snow suddenly took shape, becoming a vaguely hooded creature standing seven feet tall. It was a suggestion of a shape but Nick could feel the immense psychic power that was maintaining the creature's brief hold on this plane of existence.

 

“I do believe,” Guardian replied, “it's been about 2000 years since we last spoke.”

 

“Turns Guardian,” Nick replied. “The locals call their years Turns.”

 

“Ahh and I guess we must respect the locals terms of time must we not?”

 

Nick smiled and looked out once more at the land spread before him. Briefly, his view shifted from the mundane to the quantum, revealing the yellow stain of particles that blanketed every inch of this planet. His viewpoint shifted back to the physical plane.

 

“Hard to believe,” he began, “that a particle fountain not 21 light years away from this system has been perfectly bombarding this place with chronotons for its entire existence. Useful too when you know this planet's been attacked by some spore for a good chunk of that existence necessitating the evolution of it's native species.”

 

The figure turned and looked out to where Nick said and nodded. “Yes it is a nice coincidence. But I'm not manifesting to talk about the weather Nick. I'm here to talk about you. You're not thinking about anything anymore. Why?”

 

Nick's eyes briefly watered and the echo of ages old pain was once again seen. He quickly dashed the tears from them and glared at his companion.

 

“What's there to talk about Guardian?” he accused, “I killed her. I killed her for power. That's that. She's gone forever and I'm left with half a soul, half a heart, and half a mind. What do you want to talk about my feelings?”

 

The figure simply stared at Nick.

 

“Or how about the twenty thousand souls I condemned to hell? You want to talk about that? Do you Guardian of Time? Do you really want me to bare my heart and soul to you? Do you you son of a bitch!?”

 

At the last, screamed from atop the highest peak in Benden Range, the ledge where the Shadow stood exploded into powder. The figure simply floated on as Nick breathed heavily in and out, floating on the space that just a second ago was solid rock.

 

“You've gone through so much Nick,” Guardian began, it's voice echoing through time and space, “so much pain and heartbreak. And yet, even after that nap in the darkness, you're here. Here and ready to do what you do best, help people. I know it's hard, I loved her too. But you have to find a way to live. It's what she would've wanted.”

 

Nick turned back to his contemplation of the landscape, his mind going through memories of the past. Sighing, he reached into his shirt and pulled out two gems. One, emerald in color was the size of his fist and perfectly circular. The other was the bluest shade of blue, a teardrop shaped sapphire. Both shined in the moonlight though the green one occasionally had lightning dance across it's surface.

 

“Stars and magic. That's what I got for my wish Guardian. And you know what?” he looked up at the wraith, “I'm trying to decide if it's worth it. I didn't come here because of choice. I heard a call across the universe. That's all. A call I had to respond to. Damn it Guardian why did I have to kill her? Why?”

 

“For that I have no answer to,” Guardian replied. “All I can say is she used the rules of magic to give you a fighting chance at a demon lord. And it worked. You sent that bastard back to hell.”

 

“Along with twenty thousand souls.”

 

“That I can't say. I'm the Guardian of Time Nick, not death. That's your job.”

 

Nick waved that off.

 

“Through out all the time I've known you, all the time you've cast yourself as my shadow, you've always proven that you've got a good heart. Might be a bit jaded at times and a bit scared, but a good heart. Maybe that's why she did what she did. You're strong Nick, strong enough to endure Celestia's passing and moving on. No matter what you do on this planet, I'm sure she'll be proud of you.”

 

Nick looked down at the blue gem for a moment and let his memory drift to the woman it had been. How warm her laugh was, how sunlight brought gold highlights to her white hair, how her eyes, as blue as the gem in his hand right now, had been pools to fall in to repeatably. More erotic memories swam to the surface and he grinned, realizing how much she had teased him. Shaking his head he put the gems back in his shirt and fished out another one, staring at the red gem in his hand. This one pulsed over and over, one of it's facets pulsing brighter then the rest of it. Looking out he saw that the facet was pointed towards the southwest and he grinned. He looked over at the wraith as he put the gem back in it's place.

 

“Welp,” he quipped, drawing a hood over his head and pulling up a mask to cover his face, “guess the vacation's over. Time to get to work.” Nick then produced a pair of red rimmed sunglasses, putting them on to complete his look.

 

“I suppose so. Be well Nick. Make your enemies fall.”

 

“Oh I plan on doing just that. Cause it's time for this Shadow to rise.”

 

Nick surrounded himself with his ki aura and blasted off into the night, the ice wraith falling apart behind him. As he flew towards the south, there was but one thought on his mind.

 

_'Let's see what trouble we can make.'_

 

And the Shadow of Time vanished into the night.

 


	2. Meet the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick Saber arrives at an isolated Hold to punish a wicked evil within. He's also there to collect someone who'll change the face of Pern forever.

Though it was definitely spring on Pern, the minor holds that looked to Fort Hold in the remotest parts of the mountain range refused to give up on winter. It was cold, a cold that would take one's breath away at the height of night. And in one of these minor holds, a small boy of no more then 5 Turns huddled beside a small spark that couldn't really be called a fire. The boy shivered beneath a ratty collection of blankets and clothing, miserable as sleep was denied to him by the cold.

Cort was only a boy but he already knew that life was unfair. After all, life had taken his mother from him 2 Turns ago and now Thread had returned to sear life from Pern. Only the fact that he was one small drudge in what was a supremely minor hold in the Fort mountains kept him at the pitiful fireside. Lord Chiden was Holder here and his fist was a heavy one. Cort shuddered as he recalled some of the tales from one of the older drudges that Lord Chiden liked some other things from drudges before the girl was cast out for shirking work. No matter what, when the next Gather happened, Cort was determined to run away. Possibly to Benden Weyr where he might be chosen as a Dragonrider. At least the journey would be an adventure even if Thread might sear him halfway through it. Cort shivered in the cold as he poked the small burning log that was his only nightly heat source. If he put on more and was caught he'd have to pay a toll. Most of the time the toll was a beating from Leopard but lately Leopard and his cronies were talking about taking more of a toll from Cort and the small boy still didn't know what that meant. Especially when one of Leopard's friends looked at Cort with a grin that if the boy was older, would realize was lustful.

A knocking on the door to the courtyard startled Cort and caused him to fall backwards on his rear making him jump up with a muffled yelp at the cold stones. He moved cautiously towards the door, fearful that it was anything dangerous and grabbed one of the long kitchen knives, not trusting that it might be a foe. Fax and his methods still were talked about by older members of the Hold with both fear and awe and the little boy was often found in rapt attention to their tales. A small chain was all that held the door closed and Cort opened the door the length of the chain into the cold cold night. Surprisingly, there was someone in the courtyard, an old man who's hair was white as snow dressed in a motley collection of clothing that must have been fashionable some century ago. A collection of wrinkles almost hid a pair of bright blue eyes that looked down at the small boy in some amusement.

“Ehhh,” the aged voice croaked out from the old man's throat, “would you be happen to be master of this here hold?”

Cort shook his head, not daring to speak as he eyed the old man.

“Ahh pity,” as the silence deepened between them. “Would you care to invite an old man in for an hour then lad? I can feel this cold spring night in me bones and would like a respite from the cruel wind before I continue on me way.”

Cort look at the old man, trying to use all the wisdom his little 5 Turn old mind could muster as he assessed the danger the old man could be to the hold and made a decision. Closing the door a bit, he unlocked the door and opened it all the way. The old man hobbled in, aided by a stout staff carved in the shape of some flower. The old man shuffled in as Cort shut the door behind him. He shuffled over to the fire and frowned at the meager flame on the hearth. He turned toward the boy with a frown on his ancient face.

“This is all they give you at night?” he asked.

Cort nodded and looked at the ground. “Yes sir,” was his reply to the stones, “if I ask for more I have to endure a toll in the morning.”

“Well whatever toll you have to pay, I'll pay it. Put a few more logs on that fire boy least we freeze to death.”

Cort's head came up as the old man dragged a stool over to the hearth fire and sat down heavily, looking at the boy with some question in his eyes. Cort scrambled over to a box and removed 5 more logs, piling it on the one he already had lit and warming the kitchen a bit more.

Cort found himself relaxing in the warmth for the first time in days. The old man didn't say a word, just stared wordlessly into the fire. Cort happily sat near the old man, for the first time in a long time not having to worry about anything. It was at this moment the sound of heavy footsteps announced the arrival of Leopard and his cronies entering the kitchen looking for a midnight snack. Leopard stopped short after entering the kitchen, seeing the sight of the fire stirred up and a stranger in the kitchen.

“OY!” Leopard shouted into the silence, “the hell you think you're doing Cort? And who the hell is this in my kitchen?”

The old man didn't turn towards the portly lord holder's son or even acknowledge the crowd of men behind him.

“And using some logs?” Leopard simply shook his head at that. “You know you're gonna have to pay the toll now little boy. And I think Cramer would like to have you pay it.”

Cramer grinned at Cort, a mad light in his eyes.

“Now why would he have to pay a toll when it was I who told him to put more logs on the fire?” the old man asked, still staring into the fire.

Leopard sneered at the old man, stalking forward as Cort scrambled out of the way.

“Oh so you were the one eh old man?” Leopard asked as he got to the old man's side. “Well then I suppose you'll be the one who has to pay the toll eh?”

“Now hold on a second Leo,” Cramer asked, striding forward with one hand on his belt knife, “ you promised me the boy. You did and I want to collect tonight!”

Leopard waved off Cramer as he glared at the old man.

“Yeah well that was before this ancient old fart decided to open his big fat mouth.” Leopard got in the old man's face. “You enjoying the fire old man? Cause I guess tonight's the night you chose to die.”

The old man turned towards Leopard, his eyes glittering in the fire light. “No I chose to die a long time ago. Didn't take so I decided to keep living. You'll have to forgive me if you and your friends there don't really scare me at all.”

Leopard's face turned red in the firelight and he swung at the old man. The old man tumbled backwards off the stool and rolled along the kitchen stones.

“How was that you old fart?!” he shouted at the fallen old man. “Huh?! Like that? Scared yet?!”

The old man rose to his feet with aid of his staff, looking at the holder's son with something akin to regret on his face. There also wasn't a mark on him from what Cort could see from underneath a kitchen table.

“Well, nice punch but you lack much technique,” the old man said in reply. “If you had something akin to discipline you would've been able to hit me.”

Cramer and the rest of Leopard's crew spread out into the kitchen, advancing on the old man with weapons at hand. The old man looked around and chuckled.

“And at last the rest of your cronies decide to join,” the old man grinned. “Shall we go outside? The night air is brisk and might stop any bleeding that you might accrue.”

Leopard snarled and leaped at the old man, only for the old man to vanish through the door he was standing in front of and causing the older boy to smash into the wall. Cramer lead the charge through the door, pausing to grab a stunned Leopard and dragging him outside. Cort followed the crowd, pausing the open door way as the old man stood in the moonlight with his staff held at his side.

Cramer snarled some instructions as Leopard shook his head. One of Leopard's cronies moved around to encircle the old man who didn't seem to notice. Cort's heart was in his throat as all drew belt knives, some longer then the others but all glittering sharp in the light of the moon. Leopard took one look at the old man and a nasty grin spread on his face.

“Sorry Cramer,” he said, “looks like you'll have to wait another night for Cort to pay the to-”

Whatever Leopard was going to say was lost as the old man moved quicker then anything, even a dragon going between to cross the distance between them and bury his staff's point in the pudgy boy's bell. Leopard could only gasp as the old man yanked his head up to look directly into his eyes.

“And that's the last time you'll ever say anything about that kid paying any type of toll,” the old man said but not in an old man voice. This was a voice of authority and sounded like a man in his prime. The old man's blue eyes blazed for a second as he let go of Leopard's hair and brought his staff around, impacting Leopard on the side of the head and sending him crashing down into the flag stones. Wheeling around, he brought the staff up over his shoulder, pointing at each boy around the courtyard in turn.

“I'm going to give you a chance to run. Each and every one of you can run out of here like the cowards you are and you'll survive this night.” The old man held each boy's eyes for a second before moving on to the next one. “Otherwise what'll happen next is entirely on you. But one way or another, tonight's the end of your torment.”

“Any man who runs gets thrown out of the hold,” Cramer snarled, whirling to glare at the cronies. 

Nobody ran and the old man sighed. “Then I guess what's next is on you there buddy.”

The old man reached up to his left shoulder and took hold of his shirt. With a sudden tear, he ripped off his entire outfit, throwing it off to the side. To Cort's amazement, off with the old man's face, revealing a much younger man's visage to the night sky. Gone were the ancient frown lines and smile lines. Gone were the imperfections of old age. Instead was a man in the prime of his life, a single scar over and under his left eye marring a somewhat handsome face. The man's hair was dark but his skin was pale. But his eyes, eyes that Cort couldn't look away from, were what drew the young boy. They were the eyes of a warrior.

“Now normally I'd keep it at this level,” the man began, starting to move in the tight black clothing he wore and keeping the same distance between himself and the cronies. “Just about 5% I'd say. But you, oh you get to be special here. Think I'll up the ante just a bit. Not by much but just enough so you know that you really fucked up here.”

The man pointed up with two fingers, fingers that suddenly glowed black in the moonlight. He cocked his head and pointed the fingers out towards Cramer. Using the two fingers, he drew a symbol in the air, something that made everyone watching stare at in astonishment. In the air was the symbol for Infinity, glowing in the moonlight as the man finished. A sardonic grin appeared on his face as he cocked his head to the side. “Henshin,” he said and he hit one side of the symbol, causing it to go flying around the courtyard. It spun around and around, whirling through the air and causing the boys to throw up their hands to protect their heads. The man then spread his hands low, and the symbol came to a crashing rest on his chest. A metal plate formed where the symbol landed and four chains sprung from it, encircling the man's arms at the shoulders. Metal arm and shin guards formed on his black clothing from out of nowhere as more chains appeared. He reached back and drew a hood over his head and a mask from the neck of his shirt. He whipped his hands to the side and an odd metal frame appeared edged in red, two dark green pieces of what look like glass set in the frame. He put them on over his eyes and a metal head guard formed on his hood completing his look. He then looked at the encircled adversaries. Taking his staff up he smashed it on the ground, shattering the wooden covering and revealing a metal staff in the shape of an elongated flower that glittered in the moonlight. Twirling it around, he straightened up, a black figure of death on a cold spring night.

“So,” he said, “who wants to be the first to die?”

Two of the men broke ranks and ran off into the night, Cramer glaring at the desertion in disgust. He turned towards the figure and pointed at him with his knife. “There's only one of him and 6 of us. We can take him.”

The black clad figure chuckled. “Yeah sure you can kid. By the way, regardless of how many of you I do take out, you're dying tonight. Hope your last meal was a good one there Cramer. Cause I'll be finding out what it was when my steel rose staff here bisects you.”

Cramer snarled again and charged, leading the boys on. At the last second he pulled up, leaving his cronies to take the brunt of the attack and moving in for the follow up. Or at least that was the intention. Quick as thought, the man in black ducked under two blades, gliding forward on his knees as he bent backwards to avoid the knives. Not as if he was in danger but as if that was the plan all along. He brought the staff up and it slammed into the wrists of his attackers, hard enough that their knives went flying into the night. He continued the motion with his feet, back flipping up and kicking the two men and sending them crashing into the far wall of the courtyard. Whirling the staff around, the head of the rose came into contact with one of the remaining boys, sending blood flying from several deep cuts on the boys cheek. He howled in pain as he was swept off the ground by a leg sweep and sent flying to join his other two friends by a side kick that Cort almost didn't see or follow. This man was fast and knew how to fight. Cramer moved in now with his remaining two thugs, coming from behind as the other two engaged the man in black from the front. Even as they closed, he proved to be a slippery one as he dug the point of the staff into the flagstones and used it as a base to launch another powerful kick into the side of the head of the nearest thug. As he passed by the other man, he launched another kick from that position, sending the poor boy flying and hitting the ground hard next to Leopard's unconscious body. The black clad figure landed on the flagstones and spun around into a crouch with his hands splayed and looking right at Cramer. Cramer smirked and stepped between the man and his staff, knife at the read as he reached for another knife that hung at his belt.

“Looks like you won't be seeing my last meal after all will you you bastard?” he sneered at the man in black.

For some reason, Cort thought he saw the figure grin behind the mask. Reaching back over his shoulder, the man grabbed something and tugged a hilt into view. Drawing the sword slowly out of the sheath that had been hidden, he revealed a black blade that glittered in the moonlight. “Oh I guess I must have misspoke there Cramer. Looks like you'll be joining a whole host of bad guys here in my blade. Say goodbye to life there buddy, you're going to a special hell.”

The man crouched lower and lowered the blade to his waist. Suddenly he was on the other side of Cramer with the sword extended high. As he did, a shout suddenly reverberated through the courtyard. “SOUL RIPPER!” it cried and to Cort's astonished eyes, a thin wisp of what looked like crawler silk connected the blade and Cramer. Cramer's eyes were wide and he slowly toppled forward. As he did, a wraith Cramer stood in his place. It looked down on itself for a moment before turning around to face the man in black. Just as it did, it was sucked into the blade with a wail of eternal anguish, vanishing into the black sword without a trace. The man then sheathed his blade and looked up at the night sky. He sighed and turned towards Cort, the green glass glinting in the moonlight as the black clad figure regarded the small boy.

Cort drew back into the supposed protection of the kitchen but the man shook his head. Reaching up, he took off the mask and hood in one smooth motion and taking off the frame on his eyes. The same kindly blue eyes that Cort had seen before were back as he regarded the child in front of him. Cort froze, afraid to even breath lest this seemingly unsuspecting man become the avatar of death again. Cort couldn't understand but the man seemed to be looking for something and finally he nodded, as if coming to an agreement with forces Cort couldn't even comprehended but could vaguely sense.

“So,” the man broke the silence of the night, striding towards Cort who couldn't move. “So that was a fun fight. Kinda short but nobody really can keep up with me when I go to this level. Why don't we go back inside and I'll tell you what I'm really here for. Well,” and the man looked over at the body of Cramer and a nasty grin appeared on his face. “Well besides killing a child molester that is.”

Cort didn't move even then so the man walked up and guided Cort's unresponsive frame back to the fire. Taking a few more fuel logs and setting them on the fire, the man built up a respectable blaze before assuming the same seat he was in before Leopard and Cramer had come in. Cort stood trembling at the fire side, not feeling the warmth as what had just transpired suddenly caught up to him. The man waited, looking into the fire as if it held all the answers in the universe before catching Cort with a piercing gaze.

“Well now I think it's time we had a talk kid. But before we go on, what's your name?” the man asked, “I can't keep calling you kid now can I?”

Cort swallowed. “C-c-c-c-c-c-cort sir,” he stuttered out.

The man nodded. “Ahh well I'm Nick Cort. And as you can see I'm a pretty powerful guy.”

Cort nodded back.

Nick leaned back in the stool. “Now killing that jackass out there wasn't my primary goal tonight. Nope. See Cort, I'm not just some avenging angel sent down from on high to save you.” Nick cocked his head sideways at Cort who was suddenly reminded of a dragon though he had never seen one. “I'm actually here for you Cort.”

“For me?!” Cort burst out, hardly believing his ears. “What could you possibly want with someone like me? I'm worthless.” The last was squeaked out as Cort's voice broke a bit.

Nick held up one finger to silence Cort. “Not exactly worthless Cort. You're worth more then you know.” He looked back into the fire and smiled. “But potentially, you're at a crossroads tonight. And whatever path you take will lead you to the stars I think. Yes the very stars.”

Cort swallowed. “What do you mean sir?”

Nick turned to Cort fully and grinned. “Here,” he said as he brought up his hands and began making weird hand gestures before stopping with two fingers raised up, “let me show you. Ninja Art: Shared Vision.”

Nick reached out and touched Cort in the middle of his forehead. Suddenly his mind and vision was filled with....wonders. Scene after scene played out of Cort, a grown up Cort at that, doing things like flying around the skies of Pern, blasting foes with awesome blasts with his hands, saving countless lives from disasters both natural and unnatural. Another set of scenes played out of Cort riding on a dragon who's color changed from green to bronze. The scenes were of Cort blazing across the sky on the back of the color changing dragon, searing Thread with other wings of dragons. More scenes like these played out as Cort could only watch as two futures played out in front of his eyes.

Nick suddenly removed his fingers from Cort's forehead and sat back. He looked into Cort's eyes and smiled, a smile that transformed his face into something beyond description but held a warmth that Cort hadn't had for the longest time.

“So, what a pair of futures you have in store for you,” Nick said, clasping his knee with both hands. “On the one hand, you could be a mighty Dragonrider of Pern, searing Thread and doing whatever it is Dragonriders do. But, the other future is mighty tempting ain't it?”

Cort looked at Nick and swallowed. “What was that other future?”

“That my boy,” Nick said as he leaned closer, “that is the path that I took. The path of the Shadow. You could be like me, kinda. You'd have power and strength and fighting ability the likes of which this world hasn't ever seen. I could make you more then a Dragonrider Cort. I could make you into something the universe needs sorely more of. A hero.” A light shined in Nick's eyes and he chuckled. “Not that being a hero has anything to do with the skills I've accrued over the past 5000 Turns. That's just an accident. No it's what's in your heart that makes a hero. Someone who'll sacrifice their own well being for the sake of others, willing to take blows meant for someone else and always looking at the greater good instead of the easy path. Let's be honest, when the old man showed up tonight, you thought you were gonna freeze to death right?”

Cort nodded.

“Even before I offered to pay your toll you were already thinking about putting a few more logs on right?”

“That's right,” Cort said suddenly, “how do you know my thoughts?”

Nick laughed and tapped the side of his nose. “That's just one of many skills I've gotten over the years sorry Turns. But regardless, you've always broken rules that are only set to keep people down and miserable. Like feeding that crust of bread to that poor little girl a Turn ago who's only real crime was not being able to kill 2 tunnel snakes.”

Cort gasped. “How'd you know about that?”

“Well,” Nick smile turned into a grin, “I'm a bit of a cheat and I have the ability to see into the time stream. I can look into the past Cort and before I came here, that's what I did. I wanted to see if you were what I was looking for. And you are. Within you beats the heart of a hero. But I can't do this without your consent Cort. So, what do you say? Wanna be a hero?”

Cort looked into the fire then back at Nick. “You said I had another destiny right?”

“Well,” Nick began, drawling his words a bit, “I wouldn't call it destiny. I'd call it a path to take. One path, you'd be an ordinary Dragonrider. As if that can really describe any of those brave men who risk heart, mind and soul in combat against Thread. But you'd be one. And you'd probably be very good at it. But that's an ordinary path Cort and I'm offering you an adventure. A way to break out of the mold and become something more then you are. And trust me, in the 5000 Turns I've been running around this cosmos I've seen a lot like you. A lot. Ordinary people who choose to break out of the molds and become heroes. Destiny and Fate are words people use to try and chain themselves to preconceived notions of how the world work. I prefer to think of Fate as an untouched mountain in my way and Destiny as the tools I have to carve my own legacy in that stone. So what do you say Cort? Will it be the way of the ordinary Dragonrider or will you come step into the Shadows with me? Will you tread the path that so many have gone before you or will you carve your own way through the mountain?”

Cort stood and trembled as the scenes he had just seen welled up within him. Would it be so bad to be an ordinary Dragonrider? Would it be bad to follow the path that so many others had tread before him? But something within him stirred as the darkness that he had seen in the other path rose up like a wall. Music came out of that wall of darkness and Cort realized something else. Not all Dragonriders did enough to be remembered in Song. Why not go the path where none had been before. He might crash and burn but he'd be remembered in Song and Deed. He opened his eyes, not aware he had closed them and looked at Nick. A grin broke out on his face as he answered.

“Yes. I'll go with you,” he said, casting all his hopes and dreams on his vow, “I'll go with you and become a Shadow. You'll see. I'll be the best Shadow ever.!”

As Cort declared this, the sound of a storm lifting filled the kitchen and the fire seemed to blaze even higher. Nick cocked one eyebrow up and shook his head as he got up from the stool.

“Well then Apprentice, it seems that you accepted my challenge,” Nick smiled as he drew his black sword from the hidden sheath behind his back, “let's see what exactly I can do with you.”

Nick turned to the fire and slashed down in front of it, leaving a line of darkness to bisect the fireplace. He reached out and grabbed one side of the line and stretched it out, repeating the action with the other side. He then bowed towards Cort.

“After you my young Apprentice, we have much to discus on the Island of Shadows.”

Cort giggled and nodded to his new Master, stepping through the Shadow Portal and into a new life. As Cort vanished into the Shadow Portal, Nick straightened up and looked around. Laughing to himself he too vanished into the Portal and it closed behind him, leaving only the merrily burning logs to keep what was left of the night company.


	3. The Training Begins

The day hadn't yet begun as Nick Saber led his young apprentice Cort towards a clearing in the jungle that covered the Island of Shadow. The past three days had been a slight whirlwind for Cort as Nick had brought him to a small hold carved out of the side of a mountain and had just fed him, constantly telling him that once he got a little meat on his bones, he'd begin Cort's training. Apparently that time was now. Cort still didn't know where the food or the very comfortable bed had come from as to his eye, the only people on the island was him and Nick. Wherever he had been brought, the days and nights were warm and comfortable and he could hear the waves slamming into beaches and cliffs from the hold. But Nick had some other destination in mind as they took a path through the tropical vegetation. Finally after some time, they came to the clearing Cort had seen on his first night here. In the clearing were two stumps that were the perfect height for seats set in what appeared to be a sea of black and white rocks. Nick gestured towards the seat in the white rocks and floated over to the stump in the black rocks, settling down and waiting for Cort to get to his seat. Once the young boy was seated, Nick nodded and crossed his arms over his chest and really looked at Cort.

“Well,” Nick began as Cort heard what sounded like birds beginning to wake up somewhere far off in the jungle, “you've been fed, cleaned up, and rested. Time to see what I can do with you eh?”

Cort nodded and waited. Nick rubbed the side of his nose and looked up at the stars in the night sky.

“Now the way I've seen it in the past 5000 Turns I've been living,” Nick grinned and Cort grinned back, “is that in order to awaken whatever power is slumbering in you we can do this one of two ways. One way is the way I did it which was to make a wish but seeing as how Pern doesn't have a world wide web that manifested the psychic will of billions of people we're not gonna do that. What we are gonna do is unlock your ki in such a way that I know you'll be able to match my power someday. Maybe a couple hundred Turns from now but some day.”

“How will we do that Master?” Cort asked, daring to ask a question and being a bit surprised at his boldness.

“Ah for that I'm going to have to use a technique that I've only seen done and never performed,” Nick replied, stretching out his arms and cracking his fingers outward, “and then well, we'll see what we can do. So one more time kid. Do you want to start down this path? Because if you don't, I'll take you to Benden Weyr right now and get Less and F'lar to make you a dragon rider. Last chance to back out of this.”

Cort shook his head. “No Master,” he said, “I will not renege on my word. If there's one thing I've learned in my short life is that you can't go back on your word or you're nothing more then a coward.”

Nick grinned and held his hands out in front of him. “Good answer kid. So let's begin.”

Nick began making hand signs. He started slow, each sign being made by writhing his hands into a shape then pausing before moving on to the next shape. He began to speed up a bit, the shapes coming faster and the pauses getting shorter until the shapes began to blur together. Around them the sea of black and white rocks began to glow, some of the rocks floating up as a pressure built around Cort. The young boy began to get a bit scared as his master's hands began to blur from the hand signs before Nick finally stopped, the final shape being two fingers straight up and a fist buried in the other hand.

“NINJA ART! TIME ART! POWER AWAKEN!” Nick shouted and suddenly the rocks around Cort exploded outward as the youngster himself vanished in an explosion of light.

Cort lost all sensation with the world around him as he was enveloped in light and Light. Suddenly he was connected to every dragon in every universe everywhere. His mind was overwhelmed by the complexity of it all before something outside of him grasped the threads and rivers and torrents of power and safely shunted all but a bare minimum away from him.

'This power is not yet yours young one,' came a voice in Cort's mind, 'don't let it be your downfall just yet.'

Cort suddenly gasped and was brought back to the here and now, falling off of his stump and landing on the bare ground. He lay there on his hands and knees, breathing deeply of the early morning air as Nick just looked on. Finally Cort raised his head and gaped at Nick.

“What was that!?” Cort asked once his breath came back to him.

“That,” Nick said with a chuckle, “was me unlocking your power. Like I said, I've never done it before but I have seen it done. Seems I've got a nice memory for tricks like that. No matter. Now that we've awakened your power we can move on to the next part.”

“And what wou-” Cort was cut off as he dived to the side of an energy blast that scorched the earth right where he was laying. Scrambling up he stared dumbfounded and shocked that Nick had launched an attack on him. “WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?”

“The next part of your training kid,” was Nick's reply as he raised his arm at Cort. To the youngster's shock, another energy ball was forming. “We got your power awake and that's pretty damn good. But we gotta get you using it on a conscious level not just instinct and reaction. So here's how this works. The Island is pretty damn big and I know every little nook and cranny. From sun up to sun down you're gonna run. And dodge. And fight. Because I'm going to hunt you. Once the sun goes down for the night, I'll take you back to the hold, feed you, tend to any wounds and let you get some sleep. Then the next day we start all over again. This lasts until I get you to the next level. This is how I'm training you apprentice so no use whining that this is unfair got it?”

Cort could only nod his head.

“Now that's a good boy. So Cort, sun's rising and you best get to running.”

Cort scrambled up and ran down a path, still trying to absorb the shock of what's about to happen. Before he could get too far, he was stopped by Nick's voice.

“Oh and Cort one last thing.”

Cort turned.

“DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE!” Nick screamed and launched another blast at Cort. Cort dodged and ran down the trail as fast as his legs would take him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so the training began. For the next three sevendays, Cort was ran ragged from one end of the Island of Shadows to the other. Nick was as good as his word. Despite Cort's best efforts, the Shadow of Time did know every nook and cavelet and cranny that the Island of Shadows had to offer. Cort was never sure where Nick would pop up from some dark recess next but he learned very quickly that there was nowhere Nick wouldn't appear. The Shadow of Time was very apt in appearing from out of nowhere and blasting Cort out of some hiding spot and forcing him to run. Nick never seemed to actually aim at Cort but he'd come close. And he'd let the youngster get away after chasing him for a while. Nick would fly above Cort, throwing pot shots at him and then allowing the apprentice to get away over the next ridge. It was a game to him Cort thought at one point but there was a point to it all. Once the sun set, Cort would find himself enveloped in darkness and deposited at the hold where Nick would be waiting with dinner and a critique of the day. Cort had thought that he wasn't making any progress but the advice he got from his master was sound and helped. It all helped enormously. There was one thing that Cort was beginning to notice. He was starting to sense something very vague and just out of his understanding and he brought it up one night as the two ate dinner after a very peaceful training day, one in which Cort was only chased once out of a hiding spot.

“Master,” Cort asked around an excellent dinner of stew and bread, “I'm wondering why I can sometimes sense you before you even arrive.”

Nick took a large swig of what Cort thought was beer before answering. “Ah that's a good development Cort. A very good development. See what you're starting to sense is power. And because I'm the only one with any significant power in about 500 miles, you're sensing me. Use that to your advantage and you're well on your way to the next phase.”

Cort sighed. “Seems I'm never gonna get this am I?”

Nick laughed and reached out and ruffled Cort's muddy hair. “Don't fret my boy,” he said as the two of them ate, “you're doing great for someone just starting out.”

The next day, Cort listened to that new sense and found that he could actually tell when his master was about to appear. It wasn't much warning but it gave him a chance to start running before his master would appear. After a few days of this, Cort found he could even sense the direction where his master was coming from and that was when he came to an amazing conclusion. Along the eastern side of the Island, there was a massive waterfall that fell from a river that originated from a glacier that shouldn't have existed on a tropical island but did. Cort found that whenever he approached the waterfall, his master wouldn't manifest until at least 5 minutes after arriving at the pool at the bottom. And he always appeared at the same spot just to the east of a redfruit tree and would hover over the pool watching for Cort before moving on. Cort had gotten faster and thought he might be able to climb up a goodly ways before his master would appear and try and ambush. For some reason he thought it was a good idea at this point as for the past four sevendays he had been running and wanted to turn the tables on Nick. At least it would be different then being chased for another few sevendays.

Cort approached the waterfall and licked his lips. He dived into the water and paddled over to the far wall. Taking out an improvised pair of climbing gloves he had fashioned from some very blunt needlethorn plants he had found that seemed much thicker and harder then normal. He started to climb, a little surprised to see that they sunk well into the stone of the cliff like it was much softer then it appeared. The waterfall soaked him clear to the skin but he shook his head and kept climbing. Before too long, he sensed the power flows that indicated his master was stepping out of the shadows. He had gotten to where he wanted to be and stopped, staring out through the shimmering curtain of clear water as the Shadow of Time stepped out of the shadows and floated to the middle of the pond. He had his back turned and Cort took a sharp breath. Slipping off one of the climbing gloves he closed his eyes and started to concentrate. He could feel what little power he had begin to gather and he concentrated it all in his left fist. Feeling the power gather, Cort opened his eyes and looked at his master. In one smooth motion, he lept from the cliff wall and burst through the waterfall. With a cry he swung with all his might at Nick, feeling some sort of impact before falling down. Suddenly he was caught by something and he closed his eyes in fear. Opening them he saw he was floating just a mere foot from the pond's surface. Turning around, he saw Nick grinning widely.

“You did it! Finally!” the Shadow of Time exclaimed as Cort suddenly dropped into the pond. Nick shook his head and flew down, fishing his apprentice out of the water and depositing him on the bank. He then grabbed two very ripe redfruit's and threw one to Cort who caught it automatically. “Man I was hoping you'd be hitting this part of your development but I didn't expect it to be this soon. Good job kid.”

Cort just stared at Nick. “You mean I...flew?” he squeaked out.

Nick nodded. “For a second there but you did it. You really did it. And you gave me a good whallop as well. Now that we've got your power level fixed, we can move on to the next part of your training.”

“Next part?” Cort asked as his eyes got wide.

“Yep,” Nick said as he took a huge bite out of his redfruit, “next part. Don't worry. I'm not gonna be chasing you around the Island. No this time we're moving on to training you with all the knowledge and all the techniques I've developed in the last 5000 Turns. Oh Cort, you're about to enter a wonderful world.”

“What world is that?”

Nick smiled. “The world of being a hero. Let's get started.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the next two Turns, Nick and Cort trained. It was a lot for Cort to absorb but Nick swore he was making a lot of progress. First he was taught how to fly which gave him enormous freedom. He'd fly from one end of the Island of Shadows to the other, amazed at how varied the geography could be on such a small spit of land. Cort didn't have much to compare it to but the Island seemed to be bigger then his old Hold. It also held some amazing geographical inaccuracies. On one end of the Island, there was a typical tropical jungle. On the northern end, there was a huge glacier that Cort found could spawn the most amazing blizzards. At the west end was what seemed like a vast desert that once one was in, seemed to stretch for miles and miles. And on the east end of the island was a mountain system that was almost as vast as Benden Range. Cort had thought about this over the past two years but found that it could just be chalked up to some strange quirk of Master Nick's. 

Nick trained Cort in various combat ways. From hand to hand to energy blasts, it all seemed to come easily to the young lad at the hand of his master. At times Cort thought Nick was a very hard master but often he found himself wondering just why, beneath the somewhat quirky exterior, laid an ocean of pain that Cort, in his short life, didn't want to plumb just yet. 

One day, Nick lead Cort back to the same clearing where his ki had been unlocked. Despite the damage Cort surely remembered, nothing seemed disturbed. Gesturing back to the stump that Cort had sat in, Nick sat down at the other one, his feet resting lightly on the black and white rocks that made up the clearing.

“Well kid,” Nick began, grinning as Cort sat down, “you've been doing good. Really good. Time now to move on to the next phase.”

“And what phase would that be?” Cort asked, tilting his head in question.

“Why that phase would be getting you Cast,” Nick replied, giving Cort a lopsided grin.

“What?” was the only reply Cort could give.

Nick looked out through the trees, seeing something there that, try as he might, Cort couldn't see. “Well see, it's like this,” Nick began. “Every Shadow, that being us, has something that Casts it. An element or a being that grants us access to an even stronger level of power. Me, for instance, I'm cast from the element of Time. But you, you already know what you're going to be Cast from right?”

“Dragon.” That was a statement made matter of factually.

“Exactly right my boy. Exactly right,” Nick replied grinning. “But, and here's the thing, you haven't been Cast just yet. We unlocked your ki and your element then took most of the power away from you in order to keep you from exploding. Not that you would seeing as how I'm around.”

Cort giggled.

“But be that as it may, you've still got to be Cast,” Nick continued. “So to that end, we're gonna figure out what exactly is going to Cast you then we're going to get the two of you in sync. Fair?”

Cort nodded.

“Alright, now that that's out of the way,” Nick once again stretched out his fingers and then cracked his neck, a move Cort had become familiar with whenever his master was about to do something moderately dangerous, “let's do this.”

Nick put his hands out and steepled his fingers. He then began making hand signs while Cort watched. They were slow this time, easy to follow along with and this time, Cort could see the energies flowing around them as his master manipulated the universe around him. He finished the hand signs with his fist out and cupped with his other hand.

“NINJA ART! ASTRAL PROJECTION!” he shouted before thrusting his hands out towards Cort. A wave of energy flowed towards the young boy and suddenly, he found himself flying backwards. But not in his physical body. Instead, he was flying away from his body and was enveloped by darkness. Screaming, Cort closed what he thought was his eyes and was carried away.

When Cort finally opened his eyes, he looked around in shock. He wasn't on Pern that much he was certain. Instead he found himself among the very stars themselves. Endlessly blinking and winking, he floated there. Not even sure where there was, Cort spun around.

“Down here!” he heard someone shout down below him and looking down, he saw a road made of what appeared to be silver dust where his master stood. “Boy if you don't get down here I'm coming up there and dragging you to your element.”

Cort sighed with relief and flew down, coming to a landing much easier then he could in his own body. Looking around, he still couldn't see anyone else, just that the endless expanse of stars were somewhat obscured by what seemed to be mist. He looked up at his master with wide eyes.

“Where are we?” he squeaked.

“Astral Plane,” was Nick's answer as he assumed a seated position. “Think of it as the first layer of the metaphysical planes. Everyone can come here and often do. Often times they interpret it as a dream of flying. And they're not totally wrong.”

“I've had those dreams!” exclaimed Cort.

“I bet you have. Now we just wait for a bit. I'm sure whatever it is you're partnered with is gonna come by soon.”

Cort looked around. “Why'd we have to come here?”

“Because it's far easier for us to manifest here then it is to manifest on the Physical Plane young one,” came the reply, not from his master, but from mists around them.

Cort looked towards the source of the voice and a huge hooded creature came striding out of the mists. He couldn't seen a face hidden beneath the cowl of the robe it wore but Cort could tell it was huge. If Cort stood up, he doubted he'd come up to the creature's thigh. As it walked out of the mist, Cort could see a silver strand of something attaching it to Nick, an attachment that didn't seem to be linked to anything on Nick's body but was there nonetheless.

Striding up to the pair, the creature stopped and Cort could feel something probing him. He could also feel other probes coming from other areas around him but he was fixated on what was in front of him. Where eyes would be, two blue swirling orbs suddenly lit up, staring at Cort for a moment before fading back into the darkness of the creature's hood. Cort was suddenly reminded of the time his own master's eyes would light up, becoming almost light sources when they did. Finally the probing stopped and a sense of anticipation replaced it.

“So,” the creature before Cort said in a deep booming voice, turning towards Nick who simply lounged in the air, “what have you told the boy?”

“Nothing much Guardian,” Nick replied, “but then again seeing as how you live in my head you know exactly what I've been teaching him.”

“I've been away for awhile. Had other business to attend.”

Nick nodded. “Right.”

“So boy,” the creature turned towards Cort, “has this old rouge been treating you right? Teaching you the finer arts of combat and the like?”

“Well sir,” Cort began after swallowing a bit, “he's been teaching me all sorts of things. But now we're trying to get me Cast and I haven't the foggiest bit of idea what that means.”

The creature chuckled, a chuckle that was echoed all around them. “It means making you a Shadow. I bet you can sense or see what connects me to this old man right? That's because he's my Shadow. I Cast him giving him access to power beyond what he's got. I am the embodiment of Time. You can call me Guardian. It's what he named me.”

Nick rolled his eyes.

“But as for you,” Guardian towered over and Cort could see where the head was it seemed to be looking out for something, “you seem to be ready for your element and your element is ready for you. And it seems it is one of my brothers.”

“Your brothers sir?” Cort asked, not daring to turn around.

“Oh yes. I have many brothers. Although seeing as how I have no physical form, that's a bit of a misnomer. But you lad, I think you're ready. So, last chance to back out. Last time any of us are going to ask you. Third time seals you into this life forever. Are you ready?”

Cort nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Then,” Guardian's voice became deeper and louder as he suddenly got so huge, the path collapsed under his feet, “as the embodiment of Time itself and a Guardian of the Universe, I bind thee to the Guardian of Dragon for good or for ill. Thou art now his Shadow and let the Universe rejoice as a new defender is born!”

Cort was suddenly seized from behind and spun around to face another cloaked wonder. The cloak then enveloped him and suddenly he was awash in power and energy and more. Something was binding itself to him, something was filling in the scars and cuts in his own heart and soul. He was again connected to what felt like every single dragon in all the universe. Power flowed through him and into him, filling up places he didn't even know were empty. But more was a feeling of something grabbing onto him and holding him in a way he hadn't been held since his mother died. It filled him with love and understanding and to his surprise, he felt tears begin to fall down his cheeks. Not tears of sorrow or the like but tears of joy and happiness. Tears that told him he was never going to be alone again.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cort came too once again in the clearing. It seemed that no time at all had past and yet for Cort, the sensation that everything that had happened in the Astral Plane had happened. There was sense of something within him and Cort tried to reach that part of him that seemed to be opened up. But, for once, it didn't come easily to him. 

“Wouldn't try anything so soon Cort,” came his master's voice as Nick got to his feet. Walking over to Cort, he extended his hand. “Bet your head is a feeling sore and it's causing you to block yourself. Don't worry about it right now. Your Guardian is going to be talking to you before to long.”

Cort rubbed his temples, starting to feel a bit of a headache. “How did you know how I was feeling?”

“Well,” Nick began as he helped Cort up and then started to lead him off somewhere, “I've got a bit of Empathy in addition to my other skills. Makes me a bit of a Healer in a pinch but I'm pretty much aware of everything that's going on with you. After all, I went through something similar. Come on, we got a bit more to do today before we knock off.”

“What's that?” Cort asked as Nick lead him out of the clearing.

“Gotta get you a weapon kid. Can't be a proper warrior without one.”

Nick and Cort walked through the dark jungle, the sounds of various animals being heard around them. Pretty soon, the two Shadows came upon a cave. To Cort's astonishment, this cave was set up like a blacksmith's station. He looked over at Nick who stopped just outside the cave. “I'm not supposed to forge my own weapon am I? I mean, I've never even seen a Smith in action let alone been trusted with a forge.”

Nick looked over at Cort. “Well yeah I do expect you to forge your own weapon. Only it's not how you think it's going to go. Mainly because I have no idea how to do it either. But this set up is supposed to get you in the proper mindset. Seems the Island has some funny notions of how things are supposed to go.”

“The Island is alive?” Cort asked, suddenly apprehensive of the home he found himself on. From deep in his mind came a very deep chuckle.

“Not alive like us but alive in some fashion. I don't know how it works and I'm the one who used the ritual to make this place. Oh well. For now, just go in there and putter around. You'll find a hilt in there and that'll be the base for your Shadow Sword, whatever it is you want it to be.”

“My Shadow Sword?”

Nick reached behind his shoulder and tugged a hilt into view. With one smooth motion, he drew a sword that had a slight curve to it. The sword appeared to be black in color and it's edge glittered in the sun light. “Shadow Sword. All Shadows have one and you're gonna be no different. You'll also gain a  
Shadow Weapon one day but for now, the Sword is all you have to have. So go on in there and make it. You'll find a bunch of examples I bet and then we can get you set up for some weapons work. It'll be fun Cort, trust me.”

Cort shrugged and looked into the cave. Along the back wall he could see some weapons on racks and then looked at his master. “But shouldn't I be getting acquainted with my Guardian?”

“You can do that and forge your weapon at the same time. Now scoot Apprentice. I have things to do.”

Cort squared his shoulders and then sighed. He walked into the cave and looked around. He saw a hilt on a worktable and walking over to it he picked it up. Looking over at the back wall at some swords that hung there an idea began to form in his mind. He turned to say something to his master but found that his master was gone.

'Well,' he thought, 'let's get going then.'

 

Cort came out of the forge while the sun was just sinking on the horizon. He blinked as he saw that the path to the jungle had changed and now lead down to the beach. Walking down, he adjusted his new sheath that hung at his waist that held his sword. A proper sword he thought. As his feet hit the soft sand, the sound of music being played came to his ears. It sounded to him like random strumming of a guitar but then a voice came over the strings, matching the melody that came out over the gently rolling waves.

“Windmill, windmill for the land  
Turn forever hand in hand  
Take it all in on your stride  
It is ticking, falling down  
Love forever, love has freely  
Turned forever you and me  
Windmill, windmill for the land  
Is everybody in?”

As Cort came around a bend, he saw his master sitting on on a rock with a guitar on his lap, playing like he knew exactly what he was doing. Cort stopped as Nick strummed a few more cords before letting the strings hum their last. Nick turned his head to his apprentice and smiled, beckoning him closer.

“Had to go to Igen for a bit,” he said as Cort came to where his master was sitting, a pile of what looked like supplies at his feet. “Couldn't let you starve even if I'm used to not eating for Turns. So, what'd you make?”

Cort gulped and gripped the hilt of his sword. Squaring himself, he drew his blade with one motion, already feeling confident in his abilities. The sword was just that, a long blade with no curve or sway. Nick looked it over and nodded.

“Longsword eh? I guess that's appropriate. I'm more of a cut and run type man myself but it looks like you're gonna be a stand your ground type warrior.”

“You can tell that?” Cort asked, feeling a bit apprehensive now.

“Sure can. Then again, I've been around for a long time remember. Figuring out how people fight and countering that is kind of my thing. But then again, my Shadow Sword was probably influenced by my weeboness so who am I to judge?”

Cort just shrugged his head as Nick got up, slinging the guitar over his back where it vanished.

“Well,” Nick began, hefting several of the heavy bags over his shoulders, “tomorrow is another day and  
this one is about ready to end. Take a few bags and we'll go back to the hold and get you fed. Tomorrow we get you some weapons work and after that, well I think it might be time for us to stretch our wings a bit and get out there and see what we have to offer Pern. What do you say?”

“You mean,” Cort said, lifting a few small sacks, “fighting Thread with the other dragonriders? Isn't that boring to you?”  
“Not at all,” Nick replied, leading Cort off into the darkening jungle on a seemingly random path. “You have to let yourself be compared to other heroes if you want to stand out. It's not just about being good at fighting bandits or solving disputes Cort. It's about being able to lay yourself out there with the rest of those winged wonders and showing the world that you can not only hang with any of them, you can suppress them.”

“But won't that make people rely on you too much and you'll get overwhelmed master?”

Nick thought about this in silence as they walked the path, a few of the avians chittering in their sleep. 

“It can,” he replied after a few minutes, “it really can. The point, I guess, is to not let people totally rely on you. Its about getting them used to the thought that you're out there and you're willing to lend a helping hand or two. That's all. What's more, you keep yourself for the big problems, the really big problems, and trust me, nobody will abuse or mistreat you.”

“I guess that makes sense. But I still feel like I might become somebody's errand boy.”

“Well, then,” Nick said as they got in sight of the hold, “the best way to stop that is to remember you can say no. You're a free person Cort. Nobody owns you nor do you owe anyone anything. When you have the power, you can go tell people to go take a long walk off a short pier and they won't be able to force you to do anything. A phrase I've often heard is 'a hero's work is never done' and that's very much true. But you have to know how to balance it. Sometimes, just sometimes, you have to let somebody fall and stand there and watch them. Otherwise, people take you for granted.”

Cort nodded as they got into the hold proper. “Right. So what's for dinner master?”

“Welp, I was feeling like one of those Igen roasts I sampled while I was at the Gather so let's have some of that. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

Cort grinned and went off to get the plates and bowels, happy to have pleased his master.


End file.
